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by hannahb0mb
Summary: A French-Canadian author, an American comic book store cashier, and a Japanese online vendor semi-harmoniously live in the same yellow-brick apartment in downtown Toronto. What happens when it's about to be demolished to build a new department store? [[AmeCan, with side SuFin, RoChu, DenNor, PruAus, FrUk, and probably many, many more ships. Short chapters are short. ]]
1. Chapter 1: New Housemate

((Hello, readers! This is my first fanfic, so I'd really appreciate constructive criticism. Also, the first chapter is going to be much shorter than the others. Thank you so much!))

"Hello?"

After knocking numerous times, Matthew still stood at the front door of his new building, waiting for a resident to open it. He'd only met one of his new housemates, Kiku Honda, although apparently, someone else lived in the short complex as well. He checked his watch - it was ten minutes past the time he had to be there by. Sighing, the young author set down one of his bags.

All of the sudden, a tanned blonde man around his age opened the door lazily. He was only wearing sweatpants, and a pair of glasses that were identical to Matthew's. He had a bowl of melting ice cream precariously perched in his calloused palm.

"Dude, what do you-" Alfred trailed off, before widening his bright cerulean eyes, and staggering back. The strawberry blonde of Matthew's hair, the soft curve of his cheekbones, the hyacinth light of his eyes... He had to be; Matthew Williams. Alfred's favourite author, who he may or may not have had an undying love for. Along with his stack of signed hardcover books.

The American choked on his ice cream, staring at him in disbelief. A blush burned its way onto his cheeks, as he whispered: "...I read your blog."


	2. Chapter 2: All Mixed Up

Matthew gave a polite smile, running a slim hand through his hair as Alfred quickly set down his ice cream and swallowed thickly.

"Really? I didn't think it'd be that popular." The Canadian admitted, glancing around at the apartment. It was fairly small, although it looked well taken care of, save for a few sweaters laying around.

Alfred spluttered, trying to keep his calm and failing.

"You're my tumblr crush! Well, I m-mean, I reblog everything from you. Come in?" He chewed on his bottom lip, mentally cursing himself for the barely audible stammer. First impressions were lasting impressions, and he didn't want to mess this up. Stepping back for Matthew to enter the complex, he gave a dorky grin.

"Kiku told me that someone would be moving in, but I didn't know who it'd be... I'm Alfred F. Jones! ...And you're Matthew Williams."The American continued, trying not to ramble. His voice, although excited, was softer now - he didn't want to overwhelm the man. Matthew walked in next to Alfred, taking a curt glance around.

"Yep! It's really organized in here." The author stated with a small smile that melted Alfred's heart, like ice cream on a hot summer's afternoon.

"That's the work of my roommate. He cleans for most of his day, everyday." Alfred shrugged, grabbing his bowl, and leading Matthew into their living room.

Matthew tilted his head to the side.

"Doesn't he have a day job?" He asked curiously.

"Yes. Well, kind of. He has a store on Etsy; he makes a lot of stuffed animals, and figurines, and cool stuff!" Alfred exclaimed, grinning widely. Large, sun kissed hands made their way up to adjust his glasses as he not-so-discreetly scanned Matthew's body with his eyes. Damn. He most likely would have acted cooler if his new roommate wasn't such a babe.

Matthew nodded in response, slipping off his shoes as Alfred plucked up one of his bags.

"I'm going to go put my things in my room, okay?" The Canadian quizzed, brushing a tendril of strawberry blond hair from his eyes. Alfred swallowed thickly, nodding.

"Alright, I'll be playing games in here... Do you need any help?" Alfred replied, handing Matthew the last of his things.

"I think I'm alright," The Canadian grinned, beginning to trek to his bedroom. "It's nice to finally meet you, Alfred."

Alfred felt the light blush return to his cheeks.

"It's really great to meet you too, Mattie."


	3. Chapter 3: Oscillate Wildly

Moving boxes was proving to be much more difficult than expected.

While it was true that Matthew didn't bring too many things and that Alfred still maintained an enormous level of strength from when he played football regularly, the two had spent over three hours just organizing and trying to figure out what box held which items. Eventually, he did have to call Alfred in for help. The walls were bare, painted a strikingly ugly orange by the last tenant in his room, and the floors were made of scratched hardwood. Lining the bright walls, the boxes stood in tall piles, next to a mattress the author would be sleeping on until he found a decent bed frame.

"Shit, my arms hurt. D'you think we're finished?" Asked Matthew, sitting down on the mattress, and rubbing the sheen of sweat off of his forehead. Alfred gave a light shrug.

"Dunno, probably." The American chuckled, running a hand through his cropped, golden locks. "I guess you can organize the rest, right?"

Matthew nodded, although he knew he'd already strained himself.

"Yep, I'm pretty sure. I think I'll go to IKEA tomorrow, anyway." Matthew replied.

"Oh, Kiku's friend's boyfriend works there! Maybe he can help you." Alfred chimed, giving a 1000 watt grin as the other arched a brow.

"Okay, that may work." Matthew chuckled, smiling at Alfred, and cutting open one of his boxes of books. By accident, he sliced his index finger open. "Fuck!"

Although the smile made Alfred's cheeks heat up, he was more concerned about Matthew's finger. He knelt down beside the younger man, taking the Canadian's thin finger in his large hands. Out of instinct, Alfred took the other's finger in his mouth and sucked lightly.

"Um.. Al?" Matthew queried in a tiny voice, a blush painting his usually pale cheeks.

Soon, Alfred took Matthew's finger out of his mouth, regretting doing it in the first place.

"Sorry!" He exclaimed.

"No, no, it's fine." Matthew quickly responded, offering a light smile.

"Er, I'm going to go and finish my game." Alfred uttered, completely embarrassed and ashamed with himself, despite the fact that Matthew didn't even mind.

"Um, alright."

Alfred rushed over to the small living room as Matthew started to organize his bedroom. Other than the walls desperately needing a good paint job, it wasn't a bad room; there was a windowseat across from his mattress, and a sizable closet beside it. Despite this, he still needed a few more essentials from IKEA.

His American counterpart was just starting to tell himself that I wasn't a big deal, but a feeling embarrassment burned inside of him. What if Matthew thought he was creepy? In his mind, there was a great chance of that, for several reasons. Was it:

A. That Alfred had spread his germs all over Matthew.

B. That Alfred was five years older, and Matthew was best-selling author, while he worked at a comic book store, and played video games in his spare time.

C. That Alfred had probably repelled him anyway, with all his sweat after lifting the heavier boxes

Or, the one that was really pestering him:

D. All of the above.


	4. Chapter 4: Single Bed

Pushing his hair out of his dark eyes, Kiku fiddled with the key of his shared apartment. He stepped in quietly, his footsteps clipped, quiet and graceful: the exact opposite of the man he'd shared the apartment with for three years. Despite their differences, Alfred and Kiku had become good friends over the years.

The Japanese man smiled at Alfred, who was strewn across the couch and hadn't noticed Kiku's arrival. His focus on the game was intense, and he jumped when he heard a lightly accented voice in the distance.

"Alfred, I'm home." Kiku started, hanging up his sweater, and sitting down next to him, legs crossed. "Very sorry I couldn't be here when Matthew arrived. Did you get along?"

Alfred quickly paused his game, looking over to his housemate with an excited expression.

"Are you kidding?! Holy shit, Kiku. Holy. Shit." Alfred exclaimed, giving Kiku a hard pat on the back.

"...What is it?" The darker haired man quizzed. Alfred rolled his eyes, a smile lighting up his bitten lips.

"You didn't tell me it was /that/ Matthew Williams" the American lowered his voice. "Have you even been inside my room?! He is my absolute favourite author, no... Matthew Cartier Williams has been my favourite human since his first book. I fucking love that man." He responded, like it was the most obvious thing on their side of the planet.

Kiku arched a brow.

"Okay, then that's nice." He squeaked. Alfred stayed silent for a moment, as his excited demeanor quickly changed.

"I think I may have scared him off though." The American uttered.

The darker haired man tilted his head to the side, resting on the worn, navy blue sofa. "Scared him off?"

Alfred nodded.

"He was, like, opening a box with a knife or something, and he cut himself on accident." He explained.

"His finger was tainted with blood, so I, erm..."

Kiku felt the corner of his mouth turn up at Alfred's description.

"Pardon?"

"I put his finger in my mouth and got the blood away. He probably thinks I'm some sort of pedophile freak, but bless that little angel, he hasn't said a thing against me." Alfred whined, dramatically draping himself on Kiku's lap. His eyes widened at the sudden weight.

"Wait, wait, wait. Pedophile?! He's not a minor, is he?" Kiku laughed quietly.

"No, but I'm thirty, Kiku. He's twenty five. I was already in school when he was born. Well, I guess school was out, considering it was in July, on a warm, breezy day. Did you know he was born on Canada day?." Alfred smiled to himself at his limitless, slightly creepy knowledge of the Canadian.

"Alfred, you're not a pedophile, or a freak. I have to go help Hera moving out, but just remember: Matthew is a real human, not some angel." He huffed, wriggling out from underneath the other. Alfred furrowed a brow.

"Thanks, but I think I know about Mattie. Have a nice time, Kiku. I'm going to go talk to my Matt." Alfred grinned brightly, sitting up and waving to his friend. After Kiku left, Alfred padded down the cinnamon-colored hardwood, stopping to knock at Matthew's door.

"Matthew?" The American asked at a surprisingly quiet volume.

He paused when there was no response.

Something - he had absolutely no idea what- washed over, him, and he slammed the door open with a muscled shoulder.

The author's body was rather elegantly draped across his bare mattress. His brows were drawn into two hard blonde lines, while there was a slight frown formed on those petal-pink lips.

When he slept, years were lifted from his visage, until the Canadian man looked like a hormonal seventeen year old.

Huh.

Alfred gave a gentle smile, gingerly shutting his door before letting himself show any further emotions. Once the unpainted door was shut tightly, he fled to his own room.

The sky-blue walls were plastered with superhero posters, shelves of comic books and novels, not to mention Matthew's books. Alfred treasured them with a bit too much care, arranging them alphabetically, making sure they didn't get dusty or distressed. When the author was experimenting with fantasy, Matthew managed to write Alfred's favourite series of books. Each and every one of the darker blonde's copies were signed, although he was sane enough to know that Matthew wouldn't remember signing them.

Alfred's bed was rather large for his bedroom and circumstances, complete with brown and orange sheets. Kiku had remarked that the colours went quite well with Alfred's walls. Alfred simply shrugged and let Kiku do his thing.

As he flopped onto his own bed, Al hugged his pillows tight. Matthew goddamn Williams was in the next room. The man whose books had changed his life, the object of Alfred's affections. The man Alfred would fight for if, even if it was the death of him.

At least those unusually beautiful eyes would be the last thing he'd see.

* * *

I am so inconsistent with replies, and you guys are still being totally awesome.

You guys are the best, oh my god!))


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